


No Rose Without a Thorn

by DruidX



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical Cursing, Dark Brotherhood (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DruidX/pseuds/DruidX
Summary: When an older dunmer asks for Modryn Oreyn's help, how can the Fighter's Guild Champion refuse? But swiftly it becomes clear that not all is as it seems...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Back in November, Tumblr user fairlynnthebosmer requested the prompt: **"quit touching me, your feet are cold"** with my pick of characters. I’ve _finally_ finished his request 😅   
> I’m so grateful he allowed to me using his wonderful OC, Nellie the Homicidal Grandma. She’s amazing and has my entire heart. Shoutout to Tumblr user xxlunar-eclipse for the name of the dog (even though they probably don’t remember helping 😅)

"Oh, kind sir! Would you help a frail old woman?"

Modryn stopped, looking over to the side of the road where an elderly dunmer was struggling to gain her feet from where she'd been perched on a boulder. He frowned, considering his duties, but then brushed the thought aside, ingrained manners taking precedent.

"Of course, good mother," he said, long strides taking to her side. With his help, the old woman stood. "What ails you?"

"My thanks, young one. Oh, but it is my pup. He has run off into a cave, and I daren't go in there on my own. Please, will you help me?"

Modryn glanced at the sky. The sun had just moved over the mid of its arc, and he wasn't very far from Chorrol. He could spend a little time helping a wise woman, and not be back too late.

"Certainly, good mother. Would you show me what cave he went into?"

The old lady patted his hand. "Call me Nellie, dear child. And thank you for your kind assistance. Yes, yes, it was this way."

"Modryn Oreyn," he introduced himself. "Fighter's Guild Champion."

Modryn offered the lady a supportive arm, which she gripped with surprising strength for one who seemed so frail, as she led them a short distance off the main path and towards a cave entrance.

"Perhaps you should wait outside, Nellie," Modryn said as they approached. "There's no telling what bandits might be within."

"Oh but my little Gart," Nellie said. "He'll be so scared. I wouldn't want him to bite you. I should come with you, so he can see a friendly face."

Modryn scowled at her, grumbling, but Nellie clasped her hands together and gave him such a soulful look, that he forced a sigh.

"Very well," he said grudgingly. "But you must stay behind me, and if there is the slightest hint of fighting, then you must turn around and leave immediately."

"Oh yes. Yes of course. Thank you so much, Ser Oreyn," Nellie said, beaming.

Modryn grumbled some more, and the two entered the cave.

From a barrel at the entrance, Modryn took two torches, lighting them and handing one to Nellie.

"Stay behind me," he reiterated.

Nellie nodded vigorously. "No argument from me," she said as Modryn took the lead. They walked down the tunnel for a little bit, the torchlight casting jumping shadows along the walls, when Modryn put out his hand to halt their progress.

"Just a moment," he said and crouched down.

"What is it?" Nellie asked. She leant over, to get a better look at what Modryn had found, but overbalanced. The old lady fell forward, knocking into Modryn where he was examining a tripwire. He put his hands out to catch himself, triggering the tripwire. A chain clinked. Modryn rolled, kicking out behind him to push Nellie backwards, narrowly skirting the spikes of a giant mace that swung behind him.

"Nellie?" Modryn called, as he gained his feet. The mace still swung dangerously between them. "Good mother, are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, dear, I'm quite alright." Modryn saw the elderly dunmer picking herself up and dusting herself down. He let out a breath of relief as the mace came to a safe rest.

"Madam, I really do not think it's safe for you to accompany me," he said.

"No, no. I feel quite safe with you," Nellie told him, bending to pick up their torches. She gave him a winsome smile as she handed one over to him, sliding past the wicked spikes of the mace. "Let's continue," she added, gesturing for him to continue on.

Modryn all but snatched the torch from her, and they continued further into the cavern system.

They came to a series of corners, and Modryn slowed, mace in hand, checking around it before continuing into a bulbous section of the tunnel. In amongst the other small noises – the quiet moan of the wind, the crackle of the torches, the light scuff of their feet – there was another small noise. The soft rasp of metal on leather.

He twisted. Dropped the torch. Brought his mace up to block a pair of daggers aimed at his throat. Found himself staring into Nellie's narrowed ruby eyes.

"What the-!"

"The Night Mother says goodbye," she snarled.

Modryn's surprise vanished, compacting into a diamond-hard mote of anger.

"You fetcher!" he cried, face twisting into a glare that might curdle milk. He kicked out, catching Nellie on the shin. She fell back, rolling to the side to avoid the swing of Modryn's mace. Nellie sprang up, dancing around behind the younger dunmer. She jabbed in, catching the back of his arm. Modryn growled as he spun, the mace coming back up to force Nellie back out of its reach. It caught one hand, the dagger spinning off into the dark. Modryn pursued, swiping the mace back across. Nellie leant back to avoid it, then sprang in. One hand gripped Modryn's cuirass, the other dove in to stab at his neck. But Modryn twisted, the dagger skittering harmlessly off his pauldrons. He surged forward, slamming Nellie with all of his weight against the rock wall.

The rock groaned.

The two dunmer stared back at each other.

The rock crumbled and they fell.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark when Modryn opened his eyes. From far above came the orange glitter of their torches. His head ached. Grit filled his eyes and mouth. One arm was sticky, the linen undershirt feeling like it was glued to his skin. A weight lay across his midriff; what felt like a foot tangled under a leg. He pushed at it, and it swore at him in dunmeris.

Modryn spat out some of the grit from his mouth.

"Quit touching me," he said. "Your feet are cold."

"Stop whining you petulant brat," Nellie said, as she crawled away, kicking him in the side for good measure. "At least you managed to keep your shoes."

There was a second of silence, as the two dunmer stared at each other, then both were on their feet. Nellie pulled out a dagger, while Modryn raised his fists.

"So," Modryn said. "Dark Brotherhood, eh? I wondered when I'd merit your attention. Might I know who placed the contract?"

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. Confidentiality, you understand."

Modryn nodded. "Completely."

Nellie shifted the lacquered dagger from one hand to the other. Modryn's eyes followed it from behind his braced wrists, missing, Nellie was glad, the way her leg dragged.

"What I don't get," the Fighter's Champion said, "is why send you? If my reputation is enough to send an assassin my way, your superiors must know I'd be tricky to get rid of."

"Aye. That's the very reason for me being here."

Modryn raised an eyebrow. "Your superiors must not like you very much then. To send a frail old thing like you to take me out."

For a moment, a hot spark lit in Nellie's gut, before she smiled back.

"I see what you're about, boy, and you can't rile me so easily," she said. "They sent me because I'm the best of the best."

Modryn snorted. "The Dark Brotherhood must be in much worse shape than anyone suspected if you are their best."

Nellie made no comment, instead giving Modryn a flat, feral smirk. She felt her blood quicken, the familiar lust to end a life consuming her, as if Sithis himself possessed her.

The pair danced for a few moments longer before Nellie spied an opening. She dove in, dealing a shallow cut where his cuirass didn't quite cover his waist. It would have been a fatal blow, but for her leg dragging, giving Modryn time to twist away at the last moment. Nellie let momentum carry her stumbling past as a fist shot out, narrowly avoiding catching her chin.

"Best of the best, eh?" Modryn taunted as she panted. Her leg now felt as if it'd been dipped in lava. "I'll admit, you have some moves, old woman. But you're no match for me!" He flung forward, fists striking out. Nellie ducked his swing and sidestepped. Pain like the void lanced through her leg and hip, and Nellie fell with a stifled cry.

Modryn immediately backed off. "Oh ho. I'm not falling for that one again."

"Like I would pull the same con twice," she ground out, tugging up her skirt and gripping her leg. Dark, wet splotches marred the emerald wool.

"Wait... Are you actually injured?" Modryn asked.

"Come over here and find out sweetheart," Nellie said, "so I can gut you like the greasy  _ s'wit _ you are."

"If I still had my mace, I would end this in a heartbeat." Modryn sighed, lowering his fists. "But since I do not, and you are injured, this hardly makes for a fair fight."

"I still have a weapon; I'd say that tips it in my favour."

"That only helps you if I were to get within your feeble range. Something," Modryn sniffed, "which I am not about to do."

Nellie gave a low growl. In response Modryn turned his back on her, looking around the cave they'd landed in. It was of moderate size, from what he could see in the faint light spilling from above. In the silence, he could hear water dripping somewhere and felt a breeze lick his face. He turned slowly, peering into the gloom of the cavern. Was that perhaps a darker spot over there? He walked towards it, keeping clear of Nellie's swinging blade as he did, and reached out. Empty space met his hand; clearly, then, this was the way out. He glanced to the side, at the old dunmer clutching her leg.

"I don't suppose you have any applicable spells?" he asked.

"If I did, do you think I would still be sitting here in the dark and in pain?" she snapped back.

Modryn harrumphed. "Then I see no compelling reason to assist your skinny behind. Farewell then, old mother. I hope our paths never cross again." With that, he vanished into the darkness of the tunnel.

"Bah! Like I need your help,  _ nchow _ Imperial lap-dog!" she yelled at his vanishing back.

Nellie pursed her lips, breathing through the pain. She was a strong dunmer woman. She had survived far worse than this, relying on only herself over the years. Who needed some faithless cyrodilic-born mer? Nellie examined her leg again, shuffling to get better light from above. It looked like a simple cut down the length of her calf caused by the fall, but she suspected it may be broken. The only thing to do was patch it enough so she could crawl out of this hole, get to a healer, and complete her contract.

With the dagger, Nellie cut strips from her skirt, binding the leg as tight as she could bear. Using the rubble at her back, the old dunmer hauled herself to her feet. Black lightning crackled through her leg as she put weight on it, but it was less than before. Nellie grit her teeth, setting her mind to vengeance. She would take extra pleasure in completing the contract on Oreyn once she was out of here. With that in mind, she began laboriously dragging herself from the cave.

Modryn strode down the passage. Small holes in the ceiling gave enough light to guide his way. A split appeared in the passageway, and he turned his face, searching for that trickle of air.

"Ah-ha!" he murmured, turning to the right passage. He made to continue but stopped, casting a guilty glance behind. "Oh, by Azura..." Modryn rolled his eyes at his sense of honour, before tearing the remainder of his blood-soaked sleeve and leaving it in the entrance of the correct passageway for Nellie to find.

Breathing wasn't working anymore. Neither was prayer. Cursing though... Hobbling and dragging herself through the caverns, Nellie swore up a storm. Her growling voice echoed back, distorted enough to believe someone else was down here with her, agreeing that men were mud crabs, that cyrodiil mer were Muckspunge beneath her boot heel.

The light was fading from those chinks in the rock that reached to the outside, turning the already dark caves into the Void itself. Nellie fell too often, stumbling as if the rock floor was a pitching ship's deck. Her lips chapped, mouth dry as an ash storm. Her limbs shook from strain and chill. But still the old dunmer shuffled on – if she did not, she would never start again.


	3. Chapter 3

Nellie had no idea of the time, nor how long she had been slouched against a wall 'resting' when she became aware of scuffing footsteps headed towards her. She groaned, hoping whatever beast approached would kill her before eating her. Then she blinked at the flecks of orange light reflected off the walls. Not many beasts carried torches...

The light appeared around a corner, making her grunt and turn her head at the sudden brightness.

"There you are," said a gruff male voice. "Hrmph. I half expected to be dragging your corpse out of here. No matter."

Nellie blinked, then growled, trying to pull her dagger.

"Oh, really." Modryn tutted. "If you stab me, I'll just use this healing potion on myself instead of you. And it would serve you right, too."

"What-?" Nellie croaked out, her mouth thick from lack of moisture.

"What am I doing here? Well, that's a fine question. And one I cannot answer. If I try giving you this potion, are you going to try stabbing me?"

Nellie thought about it and shook her head. She probably couldn't give him much more than a parchment cut as it was.

"Wonderful," he drawled. Nellie blinked and suddenly the young fighter was next to her, holding a pink bottle to her lips. "Swallow," Modryn commanded and she did so before the command registered. Before she could accuse him of anything underhanded, the pain in her leg lessened.

"Think you can walk now?" Modryn asked, backing away, holding his hands away from himself in a gesture of peace. Nellie eased herself away from the wall, her face contorting as she tried putting weight on the injured leg.

"Yes," Nellie lied through gritted teeth.

Modryn rolled his eyes again, muttering an unflattering idiom in dunmeris.

"Call me a stubborn guar again, and I will stab you," Nellie said without heat, as she fell back against the wall.

"Yes, yes good mother," Modryn said, stepping forward, flicking a hand as though to brush her protestations aside. He scooped an arm around her waist, pulling her arm over his shoulder. "Let's go then, shall we?"

"Where exactly do you think you're taking me?" Nellie asked as Modryn ushered her along.

"There's a priory not far from here who'll happily take you in long enough to heal. Then you can come find me in town and we'll give this another go, hrm?"

Nellie nodded, impressed despite herself. "Nice to see you've got some spunk, boy. Most would have taken me out and run, praying no one else would come for the contract."

Modryn flashed his teeth. "Better the daedra you know, hrm?"

The moons were high in their arc before the pair arrived at Weynon Priory. Despite the potion, Modryn was nearly carrying Nellie, exhausted and in pain as she was.

"You'd best put your 'mild mother' face on again," Modryn warned. "And don't you dare do anything to these monks."

"As if a sweet old lady like I could do such a thing," Nellie said grinning weakly, as she leaned against the priory house. Before the younger dunmer could knock, Nellie put a hand out to stop him "Oreyn. I need to know. Why did you come back? I was trying to kill you. It would have been right to let your enemy perish."

"What do you want me to say?" Modryn asked. "That I decided it was the noble thing to do; that I should help my fellow dunmer; that you now owe me a life-debt of which I plan to hold over you?"

Nellie scoffed. "Don't give me platitudes, boy. Give me your truth."

Modryn was silent a long time, lips pursed, his piercing gaze trained on Nellie. "I simply couldn't walk away," he said at last.

"That's it?" Nellie asked when he didn't continue.

Modryn shrugged. "That's it."

Nellie gave a thoughtful sniff, and Modryn turned to hammer on the door.

A man came to the door. Modryn gave him some gumph about finding Nellie injured on the road, invented her tripping and falling badly. They took her in with promises of healing, and Nellie watched her mark leave.


	4. Coda

A week passed with no sign of Nellie. Rather than relax, Modryn became more paranoid. He knew the older dunmer wouldn't give up so easily and was simply biding her time. He began living at the Guild Chapter house, rather than risk his own home, causing gossip to spread like wildfire amongst the townsfolk.

At the end of the second week with no sign of a blade from the dark, Lum gro-Baroth came in one morning as Modryn was eating breakfast, grinning as if he'd just heard a great joke.

"Getting love notes now are you?" the orc asked, chuckling. "No wonder you've been hiding out the past few weeks."

Modryn scowled at Lum. "What's that supposed to mean?" the dunmer asked.

"Little old lady asked me to give you this," Lum said, holding out a letter. Modryn snatched the parchment, using a knife to flick open the seal. On the page was a single name, and the phrase 'We're even'.

"What old lady? Where?" Modryn said, standing so fast Lum had to catch the chair from falling.

"Mean-looking dark elf, came from the Great Forest gate."

"Where did she go?"

"Dunow. Probably back out the gates."

"Damn!" Modryn said, smacking the flat of his hand on the table.

"What's this mean then?" Lum asked, picking up the letter. "Who're you even with?"

Modryn shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he said with a sigh. The dunmer tilted his head. "Who do you suppose Rena Inian is?"


End file.
